Comprehension and Compassion
by CitySleep
Summary: All wounds heal if you give them a chance to scar.


Harry walked to the bench station. The train again! Why, the afterlife wasn't so original after all. Nothing had changed, not even the awful wailing coming from the creature. How horrible, thought Harry. It's been there over eighty years.

He sat as far away from it as possible and waited. One of the best things about old age is that you become patient beyond belief. While he waited, he thought of his life. How would James and Lily and Albus take his departure? They'd only lost Ginny a year ago. Then again, they did have their own children and grandchildren now, and soon they would also have great grandchildren, he should assume. Not to mention Hermione was still there- he hoped that for her sake, she'd be joining them soon. Losing Ron had been extremely difficult, but she'd had faith that they'd see each other again.

Merlin, this probably meant he'd get to see his mother and father. How strange! He hadn't felt this excitement since... well, since he'd look into the mirror of Erised during his first year at Hogwarts.

Footsteps sounded from behind him and there stood no other then the ex headmaster himself.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry exclaimed.

"Hello Harry." Dumbledore greeted. "Though I believe after the number of years it's been I have long lost the title of professor."

His eyes twinkled, and a warmth spread in through Harry's stomach. How long had it been since he'd seen that look? No matter the years, he'd always be Professor to Harry. A chuckle escaped him as he realized that Dumbledore and himself looked the same age. What a withered old man he'd turned into, he who had once though he wouldn't make it past seventeen!

With all the awkwardness that reminded him of his teenage years, Harry asked:

"Are they all there? I mean, Ron and Ginny and Sirius and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley-"

"-and Nymphadora and Remus and Hagrid? Yes Harry, everyone's here."

Harry felt a wave of happiness seep through his body. Everyone was there, everyone he'd thought about and missed, he would get to see them.

The persistent wailing of the creature brought him back to reality.

"Where are we going now, Professor?"

"Ah, to the great beyond Harry!" He clasped his hands together. "You are not dead yet, this is merely the in-between. I am the one who is to accompany you simply because I am the one you most expected to see here. Funny how that works, don't you think?"

Harry smiled. "I think I've seen stranger."

Dumbledore smiled back.

"Now, we should really get going, or we might miss the train!"

"That can happen?"

Dumbledore smiled cryptically. "Who knows? Maybe it has other passengers to pick up."

They leisurely made their way to the train, but Harry stopped at the bench. The deformed baby had stopped crying.

"Is he... in pain?"

"Physically? Yes. Emotionally? Immensely." They starred at the creature for a moment. "He cannot die, Harry. His soul is to broken to properly carry itself. This is what he is condemned to. Trapped forever in between life in death. In a way, Tom had his wish fulfilled; he will never face death."

Harry hesitated. "Professor, when we die, we don't all go to the same place, do we?"

"No Harry, we don't. Some of us are in great need of healing and understanding. There are some people you will never see again Harry, simply because they are in places we cannot understand, that are not ours to understand. Our destiny goes far beyond death."

They were quiet. The creature curled onto itself, letting out horrible croaking noises.

"It's always been between me and him, hasn't it?" Harry whispered.

Dumbledore looked at him over his half moon spectacles, his face grave.

"In a way, yes. But it's always been your choices. Tom chose you when he gave you that scar, as you chose him when you came back that night in May to defeat him. You are never without choices Harry. It's important to remember that."

Yes, thought Harry. We always do have choices.

He looked at the broken soul laying at his feet, the crying child-thing. He thought about all the atrocities that this creature had committed. He though about Tom Riddle and his life, how it sometimes seemed he had his entire life laid out to end up becoming this horrible thing. If there was anyone in the world that needed healing, it was him.

It had always been between them. Harry knew deep down that this was why he'd come back here, to this train station. Just as Voldemort had chosen him to kill him, he'd also chosen him as his equal. The one he saw himself in the most. In that way, Harry understood why, even if Tom may have never fully thought it through. Because, maybe, in an alternate universe, Harry would have been born with hate and vengeance running through his blood. Maybe Tom would have grown up thinking of the parents he'd never had.

Harry took off his cloaked and carefully wrapped the creature in it, gently picking it up and cradling it in his old, wrinkled arms. Dumbledore stared at him, eyes suddenly damp.

"Well Professor, shall we? I believe we have a train to catch."

"Indeed Harry, we do."

* * *

><p><strong>AN :First time I've written in a long time...**

**Let me know what you think!  
><strong>


End file.
